when the night is over
by oswins
Summary: "...he's gone and the streets are full of strangers." -–There wasn't much time left so Lucy made a make believe world so her and Scorpius could be together until the very end. /insane!lucy, character death; for hpfc


_when i loose my way, _  
_i close my eyes,_  
_and he has found me._  
–on my own, **les misérables**

* * *

It's her own personal black hole; a void of colourless matter, swamping her, taking her, _drowning _her. There are whispers in the dark – voices, calling her, dragging her deeper into their fathomless pits.

Lucy lets them take her.

But it's not as if she _can't _fight against it; she's strong enough to march against the pull of an icy moon against the tide of black. She has – what was it that Scorpius called it? _Fire. _The Weasley Fire.

She still has that.

Somewhere.

_Maybe._

Perhaps it's just a pile of kindling, smoldering in the pit of her stomach, sparks desperately trying to catch alight. Smoke rises from them, clogging up Lucy's throat, choking her until she ignores that last spur of new life and succumbs completely to the darkness.

* * *

He's waiting for her, at the bottom of the darkness. Scorpius. Her Scorpius.

_(icy hair, ivory skin, flinty eyes)_

He smiles and Lucy wonders if all she ever really fell in love with was the curve of his smile, from the bottom of his lips, to the high arch of his cheekbones. It's a smile that sends sets Lucy's head spinning; a torrent of memories, heartbreak and careful fingers tracing the words of long forgotten poems across her back.

* * *

When Lucy is with Scorpius the dark doesn't feel quite so..._dark._ There's a golden, dancing light, spinning spiderwebs of bright gossamer throughout the cavernous depths of Lucy's black hole. They dance together, the threads catching in Lucy's hair, wrapping themselves around the pair, cocooning them until Lucy is sure Scorpius will never ever let her go.

* * *

Someone once told Lucy that eventually, all the pieces would fall into place; that the muddled, complicated mess that was her life would some day make sense. Lucy wonders if they were lying because as Scorpius' arms wrap around her waist, and Lucy stares up into those wonderful, wonderful icy eyes, dancing with golden reflections, her life doesn't make any amount of sense.

Then, as Scorpius' lips brush hers, Lucy wonders if she actually cares.

* * *

Time doesn't matter in the darkness. Minutes, hours, days pass in the blissful stupor of Scorpius' arms. His lips graze her shoulder and Lucy can't help smiling – a smile laced with irony, mirth and just an edge of bitterness.

They always told her that Scorpius was going to bring Lucy nothing but trouble.

She doesn't think they quite meant it like this.

* * *

In the midst of it all, Lucy remembers something. A quote from a poem in a book, drifting on the currents of her muddles memories. It's a book her mother read to her when she was small and Lucy remembers the tears which sprung to her eyes when she first heard that line.

_Nothing gold can stay._

* * *

Scorpius trails kisses down her back; a river of fire but Lucy barely notices because she's watching. She's waiting for the big, bad, mean old world to prove itself right – that it's nothing but false hopes piled up on top of each other until the guilt proves too much and it all comes tumbling down.

She waits for the gold to turn to silver and then to a desolate nothing.

Scorpius continues to hold her and Lucy closes her eyes in sudden naivety and decides quite stubbornly that this gold is here to stay.

* * *

She hates it. She hates that the single time she lets her guard down everything else begins to fall as well.

* * *

"Don't give up," he murmurs against her skin. "Please, don't ever give up."

Lucy smiles, as her make belief world of golden threads and happily ever afters begin to crumble down; just as everything eventually ends. "I'm not giving up–" she can still feel the tips of Scorpius' fingers, just brushing against hers, "–I'm starting again."

* * *

All of a sudden, Lucy remembers a long gone summer day from when she was small. She remembers a fair and the smell of grease and candy-floss, all melded into one ball of _feeling. _She remembers her fathers hand and a woman in a funny dress with a glass ball.

She remembers being told she has a beautiful life line.

_(she didn't understand then)_

_(lucy thinks now she does)_

* * *

It ends in a bang.

Or a roar.

Maybe there was no sound.

But Lucy doesn't notice; all she notices are the gold threads snapping, converging, sinking back into the darkness.

She tries to stop the little voice in the back of her mind telling her they're her life line.

* * *

In a hospital room, a whole life time away from the world in which two twin flames had fallen in love again, a girl with red, red hair shifts in her perpetual coma. A small, half smile forms at the corners of her mouth as the very last of Lucy Weasley's fire dies forever.

* * *

Miles away from the hospital and the dead little girl who thought she'd grown up, a man – no, a boy, really – wakes up in a bed he suddenly realises is far too empty.


End file.
